


Pain

by Fictionista654



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionista654/pseuds/Fictionista654
Summary: She is so lonely, so in pain, so afraid and so lost. Who is left? Who does she have to turn to on a night like this?
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Kudos: 40





	Pain

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little ficlet I put up on Tumblr ages ago, but I felt like archiving it here.

Lena wants to die. She wants to drag her nails down her arms again and again until the blood rushes to the surface, until she’s free, until the burning in her skin matches the burning in her heart. She paces from one end of her office to the other, her head rushing with white noise, and she bites down on the inside of her cheek until warm blood spurts into her mouth. Somewhere, a clock ticks, but Lena doesn’t know if the clock is real or in her mind, if her anxious brain is spinning sounds out of nothing, is spinning reality out of nothing.

She kicks off one heel, then the other, sends them spiraling to the wall, where they thud and fall to the floor like shot birds. She hears her own emotions trapped in her skull, whirling and whirling and threatening to burst out of her ears, and she falls to the floor by her desk and wraps her arms around her knees and closes her eyes and tries to picture another life.

What is she doing in this other life? Who is she, without LuthorCorp, without the Luthor name like a shackle, like an anchor dragging her down into the mud? She wants out, out of this name, out of this life, she needs scissors strong enough to cut iron, to cut—

Fuck it. Fuck of all of it. Fuck it to the moon and back, the sun and back, the ends of the universe and back. She is so lonely, so in pain, so afraid and so lost. Who is left? Who does she have to turn to on a night like this? No friends, no family.

Kara. She has Kara. Of course she has Kara, but she doesn’t know if she can stand to have Kara see her like this. The strong, brilliant, powerful Lena Luthor, trapped in her own mind. She feels used, she feels disgusting, she feels like a monster, and she can’t tell if she is one or not, and that’s the worst part, the feeling that she does not know herself, that she can never know herself.

Tears splash from cheek to chin to collarbone, dampening her blue silk blouse, her expensive trousers. Her bare toes curl into the white plush rug. She leans her skull into the side of her desk and stares up at the ceiling. The inside lights are all off; the office is lit by the lights of National City and the cold blue moon.

She can’t do this. She can’t do this alone.

Fingers shaking, Lena reaches over her head and peruses the top of her desk with her fingers. She sweeps her hand back and forth, back and forth, until she hits the inert lump of her cell phone. She scrabbles for it, at last knocking it off the desk and onto her lap.

She types in the passcode, opens contacts, bites her lip. Selects Kara Danvers.


End file.
